


Mother Mary

by WhiteArtBlood



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Character Death, Creepy, Death, Gore, Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:26:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25205443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteArtBlood/pseuds/WhiteArtBlood
Summary: A short horror story about a woman in the late 1600s being wrongly accused and punished by the towns people.
Kudos: 3





	Mother Mary

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I’ve worked on for a long time in my spare time. I had to go over it so many times and redo it so many times. So I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Warning; this story contains death of infants and false accusations, resulting in someone’s death.

Rain is falling heavily down onto the roofs of the wooden cabin, sinking into the wood, but never leaking through. Puffing clouds of gloom and despair hangs in the sky and a rolling of fog hung low to the ground. The wind blowing roughly made the trees shudder but never fall. At the very least the animals of the land were resting in decent shelters from the vicious rainstorm overhead. Though this is not anything out of the ordinary, this weather was something that came normally to the field lands of Montieville, Maryland. The small town was located in a higher area that received this weather much more than the other parts of the state. The people there had adapted to it and were doing just fine, even when they sometimes had to restructure their housing because of occasional tree branches slamming down against them. However, what was to be expected from this? 

The townspeople of Montieville were nice people, in their own sense. Living a life based on their religion and well-mannered lifestyle, that sometimes newcomers would feel overwhelmed by it. It was still a growing town, not many residences, but not too few. Something that was to be expected from the year 1693 of still developing lands. Still held onto by the thin false ropes of the Englishmen that would soon break later on in the years. Now Montieville was home to workers of different jobs, that being marketers, constructors, farmers, and of course a preacher. They all bathed on the words of that one preacher, as mentioned, the townspeople were highly religious. Whatever the preacher told them on Sundays in the wooden church, everyone listened fully. Everyone attended the church every day. Well, almost everyone. There was one woman that seemed to miss a few days from the word of God that no one knew why but didn't really care to listen. 

Agnes Evans was a lady that gave a feeling of a mixed atmosphere when you first met her. Some would tell you she was an awful thing since she did not talk much to other women of the town. Some would say she was creepy and would do something bad. However, to most she was a woman of beauty, but was too covered in attire to fully show it. The woman wore mainly clothing that covered her fully from her neck to her toes. It was hard to make out her soft peach like skin unless you were able to see her face, which even then was hard to look at. This was because of her long faint blond curly locks that tried their best to mask her features. A woman was supposed to wear a bonnet when she went out, but Agnes refused to wear it, simply because she thought of it as a waste of time. No one complained though, since her husband did not seem to mind her refusal to wear the extra attire. When you were able to see her face however, you were to see the strong luscious features of a healthy woman in her late twenties. Lips as plump and red as the fresh strawberries on vines and eyes as delicious looking as chocolate in the sunlight. Yet at the same time her eyes could look as black as coal when hit with the rays of the moon. Yes, Agnes was a beauty, and the men of the town wish they could have had their chances of wedding to her. She was already married when she first arrived in the town seven years ago, with a young son already. Her husband John was the lucky one that was able to wed her since she was only at age fifteen and him of sixteen. 

The family lived at the far end of the town, closest to the mainstream and forest. Their cabin was strongly built and did not ever leak when the rain fell. They had been living in the same house since their arrival, now their boy was eight years old and Agnes had delivered another, a baby girl. The baby was named Rosemary, and she was as adorable as her mom was beautiful, with the same dark brown eyes. The family never saw faults in themselves, they thought they were welcomed and caused no disturbances, which they hadn't. Yet, to some people in the town still, they were a blemish to their little world. "Not going to church every Sunday, the nerve," the women in town would gossip. "The way that wife of his dresses with her hair out like that, repulsive." Most of the talk from them was mainly towards the wife, rather than the other members of the Evans family. This could've revolved around the sense that they were jealous of her, how their husbands looked at her in a different way than them. That could've been it for some, but to one particular woman, that was it. 

Eliza Woodman, a woman who was aging hard in her thirties and developing wrinkles all over her face, was as jealous as ever. She was married to the mayor of the town, who seemed to give less attention to her as she aged. His attention was drawn to other, younger women of the town, and soon his eyes landed on Agnes when she had first arrived. When spoken to by the mayor, Agnes gave no notice to him, hardly replying to him and only speaking in small words. He did not seem to care though. Eliza had noticed this, it was during the spring on her trip to pick up some eggs from the farmer. Seeing how her husband was giving much more attention to Agnes than her. She had grown jealous of Agnes than angry at her husband. 

However, Eliza knew nothing of who Agnes was as a person, all she knew was that she was beautiful and wanted nothing to do with her. It wasn't until she was taking her annual visit to the farmer for fresh produce that she bumped into Mr. John Evans. The man was on his way to the tailor shop in town, needing new clothing for his baby girl. He was a well-mannered man that he couldn't help but strike up a conversation with Eliza, who did not feel as happy to do so. "How have you been, miss Woodman? Pleasant day is it?" His voice was strong and booming with joy, which fit with his features very nicely. He had a smoothed face with grass-green eyes that complemented the brown of his curly hair. 

"I'm fine," replied Eliza in a curt tone. "Today has been nice, now if you'll excuse me, I need to be on my way." 

John noticed the tone of her voice and somewhat frowned, wondering if he had caused this himself. "Oh, I'm deeply sorry for bothering you Madame. Guess I should be going myself. Got to get the clothes for my youngest one since her mother can't do it herself." This now had peeked Eliza's interest, causing her to become curious. 

She gently shook her head and put on a fake, but real to the eye, smile. "Oh, no, I'm sorry for my tone, just woke up on the wrong side of the bed." She gave a slight forced chuckle. “But you say that your wife is unable to do the clothes shopping. Why is that exactly?" She asked him, trying to sound as polite as she could, just so he would spill the beans. 

Now, John wasn't the smartest man when it came to his polite manners. If someone asked him a question, he would give the truth. Feeling that there was nothing wrong with what she had asked, he replied to her question. "Well you see, Agnes gets easily tired and ill. Sometimes she tells me that things lurk around her and she feels uncomfortable to come out of the house." By this point, the once happy smile was turning into a frown by the second. He loved his wife, and seeing her in such a state of illness, he couldn't bear it. Yet, to Eliza, this was honey to her freshly brewed tea, she needed and wanted more information. She encouraged him to continue talking, trying to sound as sympathetic as she could. John was easily tricked by this, "Well, I've decided to go out of town next month, on the 4th,to see the doctor." 

There was no doctor in Montieville, so if anyone needed medical treatment, they'd have to go to the next town for it. It would be a somewhat long trip though; it would take about three to four hours to get there then back. Agnes didn't want John to go, for she did not wish for a doctor, but he had convinced her otherwise. 

Eliza smiled a little now and nodded when the man was done talking, "Well that's nice of you to do for your wife. Now, I must be going." The two then said their goodbyes and started walking their own paths. Eliza snickered a little as she was now alone, then the snickering turned into little bursts of giggles. "She sees things lurking, she is ill! Oh, I knew she was no better, I knew she had awful flaws! Why, she's no better than a..." She stopped for a bit then placed a hand over her lips. "A witch."

On the 4th day of June, as the morning rolled in, Agnes was in her bed playing with the curls of her hair. She stared up at the ceiling, counting the seconds as they passed. John was already awake, getting breakfast ready for the kids and her, he did not wish to push her to work during her ill moment. Even though she had little to do and was free to rest when she pleased, she hated being in this state. Agnes hated how she was like this, how she had to cower in fear when things lurked in her mind, luckily nothing was appearing to her right now. No one else could see them, even when she had asked countless others times before. When people replied with "no" to her question, she would try and pass it off as a joke. She finally came to realize that they were all just in her mind, not real. Yet, that is what made it worse to think about though, they were in her mind, was it just an illness alone, or was she possessed? If people found out, what would they do to her? Those two questions raced through her every day that made her want to cry because of the outcomes she thought of. She always was able to see things lurking when she was young, but they weren't as bad as they were now. They looked like people at first, just regular people, but they soon became more disfigured and horrific that made her want to puke sometimes from the sight. She had never told anyone the full truth to her illness, except John. The only reason why she never told anyone except him, was that she was scared to be seen as an abomination, ridiculed for something she could not control. Or, she could end up like her uncle who she remembered dealt with the same problems as her but was brutally beaten for it. It was either a life or death situation with whatever problems that Agnes was suffering with. However, John made it so clear that he loved her, no matter the cost. She trusted him enough to reveal that side of her. He was very accepting and she felt safe to be around him. 

A gentle sigh escaped her lips, she couldn't stay in bed anymore now. Agnes was tired of being stuck on the mattress for what felt like months of no end. Finally raising herself up from the bed, leaving the print of where she laid. She made her way to the door with little to no hurry. The room felt more chill without the blankets on top of her, a slight shiver running down her spine. When she opened the door, she breathed in the fresh scent of breakfast that lingered in the air, her stomach growling because of it.

In the kitchen, there was a table where the family usually ate together. The son Zachary was already up and sitting down, eating his breakfast like a little pig. Agnes softly chuckled as she walked in, seeing her son eat in such a manner always made her smile. Pulling a chair out from under the table, she sat down next to him. "Zachary, slow down sweetheart, you don't want to choke." Her voice was soft, and it gave off a hint of emptiness, but forced her to sound happy. She was happy though, whenever she saw her children, she was always overwhelmed with love for them. Zachary looked up at her and giggled a little before nodding and starting to eat at a slower pace. This was when John came in, carrying their baby, Rosemary.

He looked at her and raised a brow, "Honey, what are you doing up? Shouldn't you be resting?" Agnes looked over at him and held out her arms, wanting to hold the baby. The baby was handed over with no issue, Rosemary letting out a little happy giggle and waved her arm around, gripping onto a doll. Agnes merely replied with how she felt too confined in the room and needed to come out, which John could not argue with. He decided to go and fix up Agnes a plate of food, leaving her time to be with the baby. It was hard to care for the kids during her state sometimes, so when she got the chance to be with them, she made it last as best she could.

Rosemary waved her arms around and held the doll up for her mom to see. "You want me to hold your doll sweetheart?" Spoke Agnes as she gently took the doll away and waved it around in her hand, making the baby laugh. The doll was something that Agnes had made for her when she was first born. It was filled with cotton and made to be as less choking hazarding as possible. The doll was made using a red crimson fabric, since she could not find any paler fabric at the time. It had black yarn hair and wore a summer black hat with a black dress and boots to go with it. The doll had no face though, but that wasn't uncommon for dolls these days. Even though the doll was hideous to look at from other people's point of view, it was the baby's favorite toy to play with.

Soon John came back over, placing the plate of well made eggs and bacon, giving his wife a gentle kiss on the head. Agnes gave the baby back the doll before focusing her attention on the food and beginning to eat. John sat down in the chair next to her and softly sighed, running his fingers through his hair. It wouldn't be long before he'd have to head off to the other town for the doctor. Leaving his wife alone with the kids, with a possibility that she could start to see things and fall more ill again. He did not wish for that to happen, but he knew that he desperately needed to do this. And though Agnes noticed her husband's anxious movements from the corner of her eye, butdid not say anything about it. She knew he would act this way and pointing it out would cause him to become an even more of a nervous wreck. That's why she never told him about the things that she sees most of the time, the things at night, the things on her walks, and the thing that she saw at the dinner table as they ate. Always staring at her, with empty eyes.

John had left about four hours ago, most likely already at the doctors right now. Agnes was sitting next to the warm fire in the fireplace, sewing a new doll together for her baby girl, who was playing on the floor with her favorite doll. Zachary wasn't home right now, for he was out somewhere playing with his friends, only going to come home when dark time rolled around. The day outside was still bright, but in an hour the light would turn to dusk, and the dark would take its place. The fire flickered a little, catching Agnes's attention. She stared at the flames, thinking and watching. Seeing the sparks crack and flicker, like little people dancing in the flames in her eyes. The urge to join them made her hand reach out just a little, she felt the heat on her exposed flesh, just a couple of inches away from the fire. Before she could extend anymore though, the sound of loud pounding on the front door made her snap out of the trance she was in, moving her hand far away from the flames. She placed the doll down and picked up little Rosemary off the floor and walked to the door, opening it to see who was outside. 

To her surprise and concern, it was basically the whole town standing in front of her house with faces filled withfear and rage. Eliza Woodman, with her husband the mayor beside her, was standing at the front of the crowd with a smug expression on her face. The Mayor cleared his throat before he started to speak, "Ms. Evans, we are sorry to trouble you, especially with your husband out of town, but-" he cut himself off, putting his hand on his wife's shoulder. "My Eliza here has spoken outand claims that you have been dabbling in witchcraft." Eliza's smug grin grew more, and before Agnes had even a chance to speak, Eliza had shouted out for the whole crowd to hear.

"It is true!" She hollered, pointing at Agnes for more affect. "I have heard that she sees things that others cannot. God awful things, and possibly hears them too." The crowd mumbled,with the fear beginning to build up in them, Eliza continued with her points. "She never seems to socialize or ever come to church, have you all not noticed that? She cannot enter for she is a witch! Her eyes even give her away, see how dark they are, how soulless they seem!" A loud wail of agreements now came out of the townspeople, causing Agnes to take a step back in fear herself, clutching her baby closer in her hands. Eliza had noticed this, looking from Agnes to the baby in her arms, seeing the doll in her little hands. "What is that? What is that I see? A disgusting, horrible looking doll that only a witch could have produced. Look at it!" She then quickly ran over and yanked the doll out of the baby's hand, holding it up for everyone to see. Rosemary cried for the loss of her doll and, Agnes tried her best to take it back, but had no luck.

"No, no," Agnes attempted to speak in her own defense, trying to make everyone hear her. "It is only made that way because I did not have the right materials." Though no one would listen. They were still agreeing with Eliza, taking her side instead of listening to Agnes, and that was how it was. Because of the fear that they were suffering from right now, they took the side of the accuser, rather than the accused. Not willing to listen, only willing to get rid of the thing that bothered them, and that thing now was Agnes.

This was all happening how Eliza had planned. She knew that no one would listen to her, and with her husband out of the way there was no way anyone would speak up to save her. Even the mayor said nothing now, only stepping back and watching the whole thing, letting his wife take the lead in this arranged mob. She yelled for the crowd to take Agnes, to be off with her soon before she could cast any wicked curse on them. The rally of townspeople, mainly the men, grabbed at Agnes as they came crowding into her house. The poor woman screamed and tried to run away, but to no avail, for she was quickly grabbed and taken out of the house. The baby wailing and whining in her arms still, wanting her doll back. Eliza watched in amusement, the townspeople cheering to now kill the witch, to get rid of her permanently. There was no one that objected, except for Agnes herself, who was screaming desperately for help or for someone to please listen to her. 

Now, what was about to happen next, could be defined as the most horrific thing to come, for it was not only disgusting, but also the cause of the town's demise. For one of the townspeople had come to yell out that the baby was a girl and might grow up to be a witch like her mother. They did not care about the son, for he was not around to get involved in this mob's anger. their attention focused on the little Rosemary, that was still crying in the arms of the mother. The people screamed with suggestions on what to do with the little thing, when someone decided to take it into their own hands and ripped Rosemary away from Agnes. Agnes yelled for them to leave her baby alone, being grabbed from behind to keep her in place, as the man who had taken Rosemary, placed her on the ground. Another man coming up with a giant rock in his hands, kneeling by the baby and raising his arm, ready to aim for the head. More screams, more cries, and then the arm swung down with a loud, disgusting crunching noise following. . Everyone had fallen silent now, as they heard the noise. The only sounds that were heard were the loud cries of Agnes and the small gurgling whimpers of the baby, choking on its own blood. Still grasping, shockingly, onto what little life she had left. The man who was still holding the crimson stained rock was staring in shock, thinking about what he had done, but there was no going back now. The damage was done, and he'd have to finish what he started. He raised the rock up again and started to smash it against the infant's head over and over, until the baby's noises finally stopped and all that came from it was the crunching and squishing noises of its tiny head. The contents that were inside the skull were splattered on the ground, chunks of flesh and brain meat getting on the shoes of those that had stood a little too close. The need to vomit had overcome everyone, Agnes especially, she had already puked and was now a sobbing mess. No one expected to have done this, not even Eliza herself, who was standing next to the man holding Agnes. She stared at the dead stoned baby, before looking away to regain herself. There was no way to change it now, and they still had to continue with what they were going to do with Agnes next.

“You all are monsters," spoke Agnes, her voice quivering. Eliza, now finally regained from the event, looked back at the woman and growled under her breath from her words. She called for the men to tie Agnes to a pole and to set her aflame, that way any evil energy she had would be burnt to ashes. Mr. Woodsman told the town as well to do it, since some of the people looked to be a bit hesitant now. They complied with what the mayor told them, some of the men going off to get a strong one to put up, and others gathering wood and leaves to put around the base to start a big fire. Though, poor Agnes at this point, did not give a damn about what would be done to her. She had just seen her own baby girl die in front of her eyes by the ones she thought were good people. At least her husband and son weren't with her right now to have to go through what Rosemary did and Agnes was about to face.

The men had the pole ready; it was about the height of possibly a pine tree if compared. Taking a strong, thick rope, they tied Agnes up, close to the top of it, so that when they started the fire, she could have a slow, painful death. A death that they thought would smoke away the evil better, but in actuality would just make the woman experience pain so much worse as time passed. Agnes did not struggle when they tied her up, they did not say a word when they placed her in the center of town and laid the sticks and leaves they collected around the base. Eliza watched, standing a little back with the priest of the town, who had finally come out with a bible in hand, and her husband who was telling people to pick up the pace.

The dusk light was now becoming lesser, and the sky was becoming dark. What time it was, was unsure right now, but John was returning soon. He would only get there in time to see what remained. Too late to stop it, but just in time to see the horrific scene.

The people gathered around, a good distance away from the pole so that when the fire started, they wouldn't get caught in it. They didn't start yet, as the priest wanted to say a few words, opening his bible to a page he picked and began to read. Everyone listened, Agnes did not. She kept her head low and stared at the bottom of where she was tied. Everything was just a ringing in her ears, with the slight voices in her head telling her to give up repeatedly, which she was listening to. She didn't even realize that the priest was done speaking and was standing back while the Mayor came up, holding a lit torch. He raised it up for everyone to cheer with rage and joy, as they yelled out the words 'burn the witch'; before he threw the thing into the pile around the pole, lightening it aflame.

A loud cry of joy came out from the crowd as the flames started to grow brighter, with smoke starting to pour out of it and into the now darkening sky. Agnes, with little concern of her well-being, looked at the flames. The flickering lights danced beneath in cracking motion that danced just like the fire did in her house, but even if Agnes wished to dance with it, she could not move her arms or legs. However, the beauty of light quickly faded, for the flames were becoming fiercer and soon it started to latch onto the rim of her pale blue dress.

That was when she started to scream; started to howl in agony and pain. The flames have crawled onto her skin and pierced at it like needles and knives, but with the dreadful scorching heat. It ripped at her flesh and tore at her clothes, burning it down until she was nearly exposed. The flesh was melting away and the fire was now at the head, burning her hair down to the roots and making her cheeks open into a gaping hole into her mouth that was still open and screaming for god to save her.

The pain never ended, it lasted for what seemed like hours, with everyone watching. Eliza, who had the doll in her hand that was once Rosemary's, squeezed it a little before throwing it into the fire. The fabric burnt easily, it turned the doll into ashes in just a few moments, while all that remained of Agnes's body was a charred piece of flesh and bones. Some of her flesh still fell off from her, but she was dead now, and wouldn't have to feel the pain anymore. The smell was foul, the mixture of dead flesh mixed with blood and smoke hung in the air.

The town was quiet as they stared at the body, the flames were still going, until it started to rain. Calming the flames down and helping get rid of the smell of the burnt body. It was over...for now.

Two years had passed since the incidence of the burning of Agnes Evans. The town had tried to grow from then, but still, could not process what they had done; was it the right thing they had done? What happened to the husband and son of Agnes? They had sincemoved away after finding out what the townspeople had done. Leaving behind most of their things behind and heading out of the state entirely.

Eliza however, was able to rub what she had done off for she had given birth to a child during the last two years. She had convinced her husband that it was the best thing to do to try and take their minds off of things. Now they had a healthy baby boy, that was about four months old now and slept soundly in his crib.

As night rolled around the corner, everyone in the village had most likely gone to bed, and the Wood’s family as well. Though Eliza had a hard time sleeping that night, getting a need deep inside of her to go check on her child real quick while her husband lay fast asleep in a snoring slumber. Making her way down the house to the baby’s room and opening the door to the dark, unlit room. There seemed to be a very cold feeling in the air, as Eliza opened the door, something that felt like icicles were piercing her throat she breathed in it. This made her worry as she felt that she had somehow left the window open and the baby was probably freezing to death.

Opening the door wider now, she ran into the room and then stopped just as fast she had entered, for a woman was standing there, leaning over the crib and picking up the sleeping infant. Even though the room was dark, the moonlight was giving a clear view of things through the window. The woman had a tall stature, with dark raven hair that flowed like smoke and faded into a fiery-blood texture at the end of the hair strands. A dark shade of grey long sleeved dress that came down halfway to her knees that had a leather like texture. She was also wearing an even dark gray hat on her head that made it impossible to get a look at the woman’s face. Though Eliza did not care about what the strange lady looked like, she was trespassing and holding her baby, causing her to yell at the woman without thinking.

“Who the hell are you?! Put my baby down and get out of my house! Before I get my husband, who is the mayor by the way!” The woman paid no mind to her though, cradling the baby in her arms and humming a little tune under her breath that seemed to echo. Eliza had to repeat herself again, taking a step forward this time. That was when the lady looked over at her, which sent Eliza into a paralysed state.

The Woman’s skin was pale crimson skin tone that looked stretched out tightly. She had no nose on her, nothing there to indicate she had a nose. And her eyes were pitch black. An empty void that had no depth of emotion to show, though their was a red light from her eyes that looked to be like the symbol of an upside-down cross, which could be her pupils. Holding a finger up to her lips, the woman made a shushing noise and looked back down at the still sleeping boy.

The look of this woman started to remind Eliza of that event from two years ago. The crying baby; the smashing; burning; and the doll. The doll. That was what this woman looked like. The horrible doll that belonged to the baby of Agnes, that was burned along the same fire as her.

“You-” Eliza tried to speak, her voice and body shook as her blood ran cold. “You are the doll. The doll I burnt years ago! You, demon!”

“Demon? I thought I was a witch?” Replied the grotesque woman as she peered up at the scared, shaking lady. The voice that came out of the grotesque woman sounded almost like Agnes’s, but there was a much more raspier and sadder tone to it. “What a beautiful baby you have… I used to have a baby myself, but she was taken away from me too soon. I still remember how it happened too... how she was taken away from me. The sound as well. Here, I’ll let you hear it as well.”

After the woman said that, she started to open her mouth, and her face started to look like it was melting, with splotches of skin ripping opening to show the muscle tissue underneath. Poor Eliza wanted to scream, wanted to move, but she felt stuck in place and forced to watch this happen. The woman’s jaw opened a bit more, showing a row of canine sharp teeth stained red and black oozy liquid saliva dripping from her mouth. Holding the baby boy close to her mouth, she held its head inside and then, with just a blink of an eye, she bit down on the small head. The skull cracked and crushed down as the teeth ripped through and tore it straight off with the splatter of blood dripping down into a forming pool and onto the woman’s black boots.

Once done she dropped the body onto the cold ground and wiped her mouth with her sleeves, turning her attention back to Eliza. Who at this moment, looked about ready to puke and pass out at the same time, having been unable to look away from the gory scene that was performed in front of her. With a big smile on her face, the woman’s face went back to its normal features it had before. Blood still trickled down from her lips, along with the black saliva, mixing together and dripping off her chin. She didn’t seem to mind though, turning away and walking into the more darker part of the room that had no moonlight near it, and seeming to disappear. With her gone now, Eliza was able to move, and the first thing she did was puke her guts out, then pass out on the floor, unable to keep herself conscious until the morning came.

No one knew what really happened that night at the Wood’s house, but later after more events of people’s baby’s dying were growing. With no proof of any demon or witch at the scene though, all the blame was being pointed at the parents. Even with all the deaths being about the same type of injury with one another, having been crushed in skulls. Yet, rumors were being made about seeing a woman with the features that Eliza had described once. Were soon, over time, a name started to be made for the monstrous woman that people had said to have seen.

The Mother of Maryland, or more better known as, Mother Mary.

**Author's Note:**

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